After the Sonata
by TutorGirlml
Summary: Just a little one-shot imagining we'd got to see just a bit more past where the series finale "Sonata" left off


Hey all! I'm making my first attempt at a "Moonlight" fan fiction story. It's just a short one-shot, but I hope you enjoy it. I was watching several episodes of the sadly cancelled show, and found myself wondering what would have happened if the show had been allowed to continue. Here's my first idea on that. As always, I don't own the show or the characters; I'm just playing!

After the Sonata

The kiss went on and on, shimmering in the air between them, crackling like electricity, making both of them feel hazy, lightheaded, near drugged with pleasure and emotion. It felt as though this kiss might never end, bending the world as they knew it on its axis and seeming as though it might stretch into eternity. Which, Beth realized briefly in some still barely functioning part of her mind, on Mick's end at least, the kiss truly could last forever.

It was a startling thought; one that Beth relished on the one hand, and on the other brought reality rushing back into her consciousness. All of the obstacles and differences that had stood between she and Mick since they had met and since Mick had barged back in, proclaimed they could make it work, and claimed her in this soul-branding kiss, were still there. Nothing had changed; none of the reasons why they shouldn't had gone away. But she couldn't bring herself to feel like that should stop her anymore. If Mick was actually ready to let himself go and give them a chance, she was going to stop worrying and stop fighting herself and what she wanted to enjoy this moment. However long Mick would give her, however long she could have – whether it were just tonight or until the end of time.

She shivered at the enormity of it; that they might really give the feelings that had always simmered between them a chance. It was daunting beyond her comprehension – that this would change everything; it might even change her. Would the choice someday come before her; to become like Mick? Perfect; near invulnerable, heightened senses, eternal agelessness…the ability to literally stand by his side forever?

Even more confusing than the fact that she might really someday face that choice, was the knowledge that she no longer knew what decision she would make. When she had sent Mick away, told him that he'd been right all along, that they could never be, she had been certain that her answer was normal, mortal life. But when he had returned – was that only minutes ago? – and this kiss, this embrace, this melding of hearts and souls had begun, all that she had thought she knew and believed had changed. She wasn't sure of anything now, other than that she needed him and couldn't imagine sending him away again or ever watching him go.

His hands reached up to trace the lines of her face, as gentle and reverent as if he were handling delicate, blown glass. She searched his eyes for a long, aching moment; they were both a storm and a heaven, all she could wish to see in the world in two small orbs. Then she let her eyes close and felt his fingertips ghost over the apples of her cheeks, her eyelids, her forehead and brow, and brush through her hair as if it were precious spun gold.

Drawing in a ragged breath, Beth felt her ability to breathe almost overcome by his touch, their intense connection, and her pounding heart. She clung to Mick's shoulders and the nape of his neck, her fingers twining in the ends of his somewhat shaggy hair and stroking his skin unconsciously.

As always, her pulse was constantly audible to him, present in his mind and veins as if it were his own. He could feel it fluttering erratically like a panicked fragile bird. And he chuckled lightly under his breath, tilting her head up to meet his gaze with one finger under his chin. "Don't stop breathing on me, Turner," he murmured, his voice low and soft as velvet. "Now, who's the delicate flower?" he arched an eyebrow playfully, teasing her.

She smiled, amfused at her own reaction to his touch and his nearness, and took the moment Mick had pulled away to speak to catch her breath and steady her reeling senses just a bit. Reaching out, Beth quirked one side of her mouth up in a smile, trying to pay him back in kind. She trailed a finger from his throat, to the bit of his chest exposed by his unbuttoned shirt collar, to clutch that shirt fabric and pull him towards her.

He was solid as stone and she realized how ridiculous she was to think she could pull him anywhere – like attempting to move a mountain. But Mick did come towards her and let her have control as she initiated their second real, full kiss. So long they'd been locked in an intricate, tentative dance, hampered by his guilt and self-loathing, and protectiveness of her, and her confusion and uncertainty. It was wonderful, freeing relief, to finally let go and give in to their desire, to the love they had both been denying for far too long.

Though this kiss was less needy, less frantic, it was no less deep, passionate, or true. Both of them lost themselves in sensation yet again, letting the rest of the world fall away. For now – finally – through the pain of their pasts, the death of vampiric true love they had seen that night, and all of their doubts and fears – they weren't going to hold back any longer. Instead it was like their bond had been forged in fire and come out stronger on the other side. All that mattered now was clinging to each other and what they had, for all they were worth.

When they finally parted again, if only so Beth could breathe, she leaned her forehead to rest against Mick's and asked him lightheadedly, giddy with joy despite her reporter's inquisitiveness, "So what happens now? Where do we go from here?"

He smiled, letting himself experience her honesty, love, the sense that he deserved this happiness, and his long awaited absolution. He continued to let their heads touch, putting his hands up to cradle either side of her face. He let his potent, intoxicating eyes catch and hold hers, believing his next words wholeheartedly even as he spoke them, "Wherever we want."


End file.
